


Drowning In The Fishbowl

by ThatScottishShipper



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Background Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Bedrooms, COVID, COVID-19, Don’t repost to another site, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear of Death, Friendship, Gen, Hospitalization, Inspired by Real Events, Isolation, Kyle Broflovski & Stan Marsh Friendship, Loneliness, Long-Distance Friendship, Mother Taken To Hospital, Pandemics, Sick Character, South Park Pandemic Special, Teddy Bears, past Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger - Freeform, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26802883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatScottishShipper/pseuds/ThatScottishShipper
Summary: All Stan wanted was for things to be normal again...*Inspired by the South Park Pandemic Special Episode, and the author’s own experiences.*
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski & Stan Marsh
Kudos: 16





	Drowning In The Fishbowl

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned in the tags, this short story is based on the South Park Pandemic Special (as well as events currently happening in my own life,) and centres on COVID19.
> 
> Please exercise caution when reading, or avoid entirely if this is distressing and upsetting. Take care.

They took her away.

In one night, his Mother succumbed to sleep, and by morning, she struggled to stay awake. Stan had watched Randy follow the emergency taking her into the back of the ambulance, and like that, she was gone.

Her fever had been the biggest worry, and she drifted in and out of consciousness. She was “critical, but stable” they said, too tired to even talk to anyone. Not that guests were encouraged these days.

All he could do was sit on his bed, and hope for the best, all the while fearing the worst.

_ ‘’Cause it’s 2020…’ _

His phone rested close to his side, that flat black screen threatening to come to life with a call that would turn his life upside down for the millionth time that year.

All Stan wanted was  _ goddamn _ normality.

A bitter laugh choked inside his throat. Normal? In South Park? Define  _ normal _ in a backwater town crawling with weekly alien attacks, zombie hoards, and underpants gnomes problems?

The strange thing was, though, there was a strange comfort in it. Everything calmed down eventually in the crazy town he grew up in before the next fiasco came alone. South Park was always a wacky and wild place to live, but there were always moments of calm before the next storm.

That year had been relentless, with little respite between chaos. The endurance Stan had built up over his life, facing every unexpected hardship that came his way, crumbled around him.

He just wanted things to be normal again.

He missed his life, his school without barriers, his friends without distance. Even in the undisputed era of communication, Stan Marsh felt hopelessly alone.

And worse still, he broke before his friends, pouring his heart out and admitting his desperation to save Butters… was to save himself. Because he couldn’t adapt to the change enforced onto his life, taking away the only things that brought him happiness.

Being stuck in a house, with a father he hated, a mother that became a hollow shell, and a sister that no longer acknowledged him. His only connections were outside, in a world where Death lurked once more, taunting him at every window, peering in…   
  


A terrible thought buried into his head, a seed of doubt taking root and swallowing anything good.

Had he done it? Had Stan and his friends breaking quarantine, for that one night to take Butters to Build-A-Bear… brought  _ that _ home?

_ ‘Did I… hurt Mom?’ _

Stan’s eyes grew wet, pooling onto the bed sheets. Stress skyrocketed, his heart pounding inside his chest, at the thought he did something. That he wasn’t careful enough.

_ ’Fuck, I’m acting like Tweek right now.’  _ He wiped his eyes, thinking about how frazzled his classmate had been since the Pandemic was announcement. _‘At least he’s got Craig.’_

Things had been awful before That had hit South Park, his fractured family barely barely held together, his selfish father caring more about his weed business than any of them, trapped in a farm on the outskirts of town.

Uncle Jimbo was still bedbound, and his Mother...

Stan brought his knees to his chest, and sighed, thinking of everything that had transpired that day, and what he faced tomorrow.

_ ‘And who knows how long?’ _

Who knows how long until he and his three friends could stand at that bus stop, waiting for the ride to school?

Who knows how long until trick or treating would be a thing again?

Stan bit his lip.

Who knows how long until Stan could try to patch things up with Wendy again?

Who knows when he or Kyle could sneak to each other’s houses when real life bullshit got tense again? He missed that little knock on his window.

Turning his head towards the window, as if on cue, Stan wanted more than anything to see that familiar flash of green from a friend. What he did not anticipate was a plushed abomination peering in from the outside.

At any other occasion, Stan might have settled for mild confusion. Instead, he jumped at the sight. A Frankenstein patchwork of fur and beady eyes that bore into his soul. Still, it beat Death tapping at his window again, taunting him,  _ the scary boney bastard. _

Nevertheless, he had faced up to more in his life at South Park, so against his better judgement, he edged closer. It was still a sight for sore eyes, a lime green  _ thing _ stitched up as poorly as a certain zombie had once been. A felt dark green nose served to keep the shoddy stitch job together, not that the rest of it fared any better.

Trying not to think it was some monstrous doll that might come to life, Stan carefully opened his window, but not a soul was to be found. Only the scent of marijuana drifting from the fields and the dance of green in the breeze showed life in the farmyard.

Whoever left it was gone.

Looking back down at his guest, he took note of the black shirt covering what was clearly stuffing bellowing out a burst hole on its stomach. The clothing simply said  _ Emotional Support Bear _ .

Stan sniffed, lifting the Build-A-Bear someone went out their way to make for him. A Build-A-Bear that barely held together, and was not made by the hands of a shop assistant.

But… that didn’t matter.

The sentiment did. That even when Stan felt physically lonely, he was not emotionally alone. And he had a pretty good idea who did the deed if the colour scheme was any indication.

The very person who knew how isolated Stan was on the fringes of South Park, trapped in a home with a family that forgot they once loved each other. Someone who wanted to offer support in his place.

Someone who knew how much Stan was hurting without words.

Holding the crappily made bear to his chest, Stan finally let it out, letting tears flow freely. Even from so far away, he heard Kyle’s words, comforting him as gently as if he has been sitting right there with him.

_ “I’m here, dude. _

_ I’m here for you.” _

**Author's Note:**

> Repetitive much, but yeah, this is inspired by two things. One is the South Park Pandemic Special that aired, and is strictly from Stan Marsh’s POV as it was such an emotional, relatable part to the episode.
> 
> The second is my mother was taken into hospital the day after the episode, and this became a therapy piece dealing with many of my fears that night. Having my phone glued to my side, awaiting who knows what. As well as my own health being to shot (unrelated to COVID, but chronic chips,) I was not in a good place and needed to vent.
> 
> Stan’s voice from that episode helped, though I did add some additional things in. First of all, Sharon Marsh - his mother - being taken to hospital. This was more in line with my rl experiences, but also something I feared would happen in the episode. With Death lingering around, foretelling an unexpected passing, and the way the final scene with Randy and his wife was shot, I honestly thought the episode was going to end with Sharon not waking up. Like a stark reminder of how dangerous this pandemic is.
> 
> I also added more headcanons about Stan’s relationship with his dysfunctional family, including his growing detachment and hatred of his father. Leading to him receiving a gift... from someone who knows he’s struggling.
> 
> Even though Kyle is never seen in the story, his care of Stan is very much felt. In the episode, he knew something was wrong with Stan before the visible cracks formed, and I wanted to expand on that.
> 
> That even though they are far apart, Kyle still cares about Stan, and will do everything in his ability to help him. Even if it’s trying to make him a poorly constructed Build-A-Bear.
> 
> I checked out the website when trying to imagine what the bear would be like. Green is definitely Kyle’s colour, something Stan would remember, and the Emotional Support Bear shirt was one available on the site. It seemed fitting in a show of comfort and support, even from a distance.
> 
> I’m not sure how fics set around COVID are taken, but I believe that for some people, they can be a source of comfort. They can offer validated feelings, especially of loneliness and fear, or allow for control of a messy, difficult situation even in a fictional setting. While I understand why some might want to avoid covid content because let’s face it, it’s EVERYWHERE right now and it’s scary, please be mindful that for some, it can help.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. 💙💚


End file.
